


Parker Play Video Games

by Sam__Scum



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Harley is literally every schoolboy ever trying to get his crush's attention, M/M, Peter Parker is bad at first-person shooters, Peter is clueless like every said crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-06
Packaged: 2020-02-26 23:38:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18727189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sam__Scum/pseuds/Sam__Scum
Summary: Harley Keener moved into Stark Tower a week ago. One week later, Peter had just about enough of Harley’s constant snarky remarks. Little does he know, all he needs for his world to change is a few rounds at video game.





	Parker Play Video Games

“Wow, you’re really bad at the game, Peter.”

Peter felt his body stiffen at Harley’s comment. He tried to pretend that he hadn’t heard the slightly older boy. Harley had just moved into the Stark tower last week, and from the moment he had walked out of the elevator with his brown hair perfectly messy, with his strong arms, one underneath the cardboard box brimming with gadgets and the other holding the handle of his luggage, with his icy blue eyes that froze Peter in place on the sofa and made him feel as if his skin was on fire, from that moment Peter had known that Harley was trouble. Tony had said that Harley was smart, but he never said anything about him being hot.

“I mean, you’re really, really, bad at the game.” Prodded the taller boy.

Peter prayed for patience silently. He already had plenty of strength, not that his superhuman strength had prevented Harley from making small remarks at everything Peter did. When Peter grabbed a Pepsi from the fridge last Tuesday, he almost spilled half of it on himself when he saw Harley leaning against the kitchen door frame. Harley had said that sugary drinks stunted growth and then turned on his heel and left. Thinking about it still made Peter’s face burn. He wasn’t that short. Besides, he had read a study that said that most humans don’t stop growing until they were 21. That still left him with 4 years of time to get taller.

“Wait. You’re actually really, really, re-” Harley began, but was cut off.

“I get it Harley! I’m really, really, really, bad at this game, okay? Just stick it, will you?” Peter interjected hotly.

Now the only thing that was heard in the living room was the sounds of Peter firing guns and being shot at. He felt a twinge of regret and wondered if he had been a little too harsh but felt that the reprieve from Harley was worth it. A reprieve that was shortly enjoyed.

Harley bounced onto the sofa. The distraction was enough to throw Peter’s aim off, and he was quickly shot down.

“See? Really, really, really, bad.” Harley’s calm and nonchalant tone made Peter see red.

“I only died because of you!” Peter screamed, his voice cracking at the end. He saw the look in Harley’s hazel eyes and felt his anger flare up again. They were gleaming. With glee.

“Not. A. Single. Word.” Peter growled. He hit “respawn”.

Peter peripherally saw Harley open his mouth.

“Not a word.”

He died again.

His eyes shot to his left, where Harley sat, shaking his leg. He saw his shiny lips part.

“Not.”

Harley raised his eyebrows.

“A.”

Harley widened his eyes as if he was trying to appeal to Peter’s better nature.

“Word.”

Harley raised his arms, which Peter noted still looked strong, in surrender. A smirk spread itself across Harley’s face. Peter hated how perfect Harley looked like this. How perfectly infuriating.

Peter hit “respawn” again. He walked through a doorway, thinking about whether to aim for the head or if the chest was better, to account for the recoil of his gun, when he was shot dead again. He struggled to resist the urge to curse. He shoved the controller into Harley’s hands, and made a valiant attempt to shrug off the electricity he felt when their hands touched.

Peter stood up from the sofa and stormed off, thinking about the excuses he was going to have to make up and tell Mr. Stark so that he could avoid being in the tower whenever it was inhabited by Harley. Maybe he would conveniently forget his jacket at home, maybe even fall sick. He just didn’t feel like being around Harley. Maybe for the next 20 years. Harley was so mean. It didn’t even matter that he was gorgeous. Or maybe it was the fact that he was so hot that made it worse.

His dramatic exit was brought to a halt. Peter felt a hand on his wrist.

“Wait. Peter.” Harley said. All trace of the snark that Peter had heard all week was gone. “Stay. I’ll teach ya, okay?”

It wasn’t the offer of having Harley teach him that made Peter sit back down on the sofa. It was his tone. It didn’t feel like a knife against his throat, waiting for him to make a mistake, for a reason to cut him. It felt warm, gentle, and caring. Either way, Peter found himself back on the plush sofa in the living room, albeit carefully ensuring that he didn’t face its other occupant.

Peter felt something nudge the side of his arm. He carefully peered over, laying his eyes on the black controller with Harley’s hand still holding it.

“I said I’ll teach ya,” Harley offered, raising his eyebrows. Peter swore he saw Harley physically resisting the urge to wink.

“So, play. What’re you waiting for?” Peter said.

“I ain’t gonna make it that easy, Parker. I’ll teach ya, while ya play.” Harley drawled. He nudged Peter with the controller again.

Peter snatched it out of his hands, earning a grin from the southern boy. His compliance could have been attributed to Harley calling him “Parker” for the first time, or the way his accent and drawl made Peter’s insides flutter.

He hit “respawn” once again, and started controlling his character, walking him out of spawn.

Peter froze. There was a thumb that wasn’t his own on the controller, causing his character to move away from his usual route. Harley was leading him into an underground tunnel, away from all the chaos of the battlefield. Rounding a corner, Peter jumped as he saw a crouching enemy. His gun fired, taking the enemy out. Peter looked down, puzzled. He certainly hadn’t fired. That was when he realized that Harley’s right hand was hovering inches away from his own hand. He pieced two and two together. Then, Peter’s mind went blank. Harley’s hovering hand fell onto his, confidently maneuvering through the map, calmly gunning down any enemies that dared to cross his path. What really took Peter’s breath away, however, wasn’t Harley’s stellar gameplay. It was the fact that for Harley to have his hands on the controller like he did, he would have had to be essentially bear-hugging Peter. Which he was. The contact was driving Peter crazy. His mind buzzed, his skin blazed.

“W-what do you think you’re doing, Harley?” Peter choked.

“Teaching my boyfriend how to play this video game. He’s really thick, it took my literally getting him to straddle me for him take a hint.” Harley said nonchalantly.

“Boyfriend?” Peter squeaked.

“Yeah. Did I mention he’s thick? I’ve been dropping hints all week since I moved into the same building as him. All he got was mad, though.” Harley continued.

Suddenly it all made sense. All the comments. It was classic playground flirting. If you want a person’s attention, give them a shove. Peter felt so stupid for not connecting the dots earlier. But now he had more important things to worry about. He hoped Harley wasn’t noticing the tent forming in his sweatpants.

“I think he’s got the hint now, though.” Harley gave that smirk of his again. Peter could just feel Harley smirking.

That was when the elevator dinged.

It was too late for Peter to get in a more presentable position so all he could do was sit there, frozen in between Harley’s arms – and legs – as Tony Stark strolled out of the elevator. It took the mechanic a few moments before he saw the boys straddling on his million-dollar sofa, as he was in a holographic conference with the other Avengers.

Then his eyes focused past the semi see-through Captain America and on the scene in front of him. Harley wrapped around Peter, the two of them playing some trending shooter. The former smirking at Tony just like he did all those years ago during the Mandarin fiasco, and the latter, with his face the color of a tomato with the same facial expression he had made when Tony made fun of his Spider-man suit that Tony secretly thought resembled that of a constipated baby.

“Guys, I’ll call you back.” Tony said. “Hold call.”

“M-Mr. Stark I can explain!” Peter sputtered. He didn’t get a chance to find out how Tony had felt about stuff like this. Peter himself wasn’t even sure what this was. Apparently, he wasn’t as straight as he thought.

Tony paused.

“Take care of him, Harley. And Peter, keep Harley in check.” He eventually said, walking towards his office (on this level).

Peter turned his head to face Harley. Their brown eyes met. Their laughter filled the previously silent room.

“Oh yeah. I won the bet by the way. Peter didn’t know, did he?” Tony returned to the room, once again surrounded by the holographic Avengers.

“Yea, you were right. Darlin’ didn’t have a damn clue.” Harley smirked


End file.
